Every Man's Dream
by TheOriginalFutureKitty
Summary: A new prisoner in SLAM gets on Riddick's nerves with his trash talking, but it does bring to mind a certain bounty hunter. This one's for grownups.


"I wanna know who fuckin' brought Riddick in." Danny Simpson said to no one in particular. In for four counts of premeditated murder, he was new to SLAM, still trying to make a name for himself by acting as if he knew all about the biggest and baddest players. Not that multiple murderers from religious communes were rare, but SLAM was a whole 'nother religion. Meanwhile, someone in the darkness answered his question.

"He hasn't told you? Don't feel bad, sweetie, he ain't big on talkin'." That was Smythe, professional street soldier for the Sylverna Mafia. He had been convicted for conspiracy to commit murder of the president of a planetary council. "But to answer your question, Riddick got tagged by a pretty little bitch by the name of William J. Johns."

"Pretty?" Danny guffawed. Smythe elaborated:

"Pretty and mean. Eyes as blue as the ocean you'll never see again, blond curls that shine red in the sun, and a mouth made for suckin' cock."

Somewhere in the darkness, someone moaned. It was followed by hoots of laughter and ridicule.

"You sound like you wanna fuck 'im or somethin'." Danny replied. More than a few men made rude noises.

"Correction: Everyone wants to fuck Johns." Smythe explained.

"Want to teach him a lesson about who the real tough guys are?" he asked, deliberately playing dumb. All part of his plan to make the others respect him when they least expected it.

"I wanna teach him a lesson alright. Teach him to lie still." Snickers, words of agreement.

"Teach him to bend over." That brought some chuckles and a few clapping hands.

"Teach him how to deep throat." Howls of laughter with applause and foot stomping.

"Ding! Ding! Ding! Ding! Ding! I think we have a winner!" Smythe shouted.

Danny laughed with the others, although he wasn't amused. Rape was no joke. And the way these guys were talkin', he knew he'd have to make his move soon. If for no other reason than he was blond with blue eyes. If it weren't for the freaks with the shine jobs, he wouldn't have worried. But there were guys here that could see him. Meanwhile, a voice as deep as a heavy freight hauler engine had cut across the chatter:

"You'd never get that close."

All conversation ceased. Riddick had spoken. Riddick almost never spoke to anyone about anything.

"Must be hard knowin' Sir Fuck Me Please got the drop on you." Someone said, obviously disguising his voice. Snickers greeted the suggestion.

"Hey -does he really smell like vanilla ice cream like those faggots up on E-12?" Someone asked. It was a silly question, but it didn't go unappreciated.

"Like you'd give a shit." Came the anonymous sneer. "If you had him under you, squirming and yelling and rubbing all against your cock, you wouldn't give a fuck what he smelled like."

"I would if he smelled like you Harrison." Another cacophany of hoots and howls rang through the cellblock halls.

"So, who would go first?" Danny asked. Whoever answered would be the first one he took out.

"That would be me." Riddick replied. Danny's heart sank.

"I got second!" Smythe hollered. An argument broke out over who would take third, fourth and so on. Danny turned to Riddick, wondering if he could do the impossible.

"You can't take me..."

Danny nearly jumped out of his skin. No way Riddick could have known what he was thinkin'.

"What about Johns?" Danny couldn't help it, it slipped out. Riddick didn't miss a beat.

"Johns is the best merc in three systems..."

"Yeah, I'd heard that." Danny interrupted. He really wanted to meet this Johns dude. If Riddick said he was the best, that was high praise. Wouldn't it be cool if he somehow broke out of SLAM and took Johns out? Smoke the mother fucker that had taken Riddick down? Riddick snapped Danny back to reality with an crushing backhand across his jaw. Danny stifled a shout, knowing it would do no good to scream. It was a struggle, but he managed to stay quiet long enough for Riddick to speak:

"Johns doesn't just play with the big boys, he's one of the big boys. You, on the other hand, would never see me comin'."

The plan came to Danny almost before he could catch it: "He your girlfriend? You sound like you want to buy him flowers and kisses for his borthday!" Danny sneered. Provoke Riddick and watch the guards kill him. All he had to do was say He's gonna kill me. Nothing less than impending death got their attention. Sure, he'd be labelled as a sissy bitch, but Riddick would be gone. Unfortunately, Riddick didn't take the bait. Instead, he gave the following advice:

"You don't know enough about who watches who's back here to make a move. Wait. Watch. Learn."

Danny was confused. Where the fuck did that come from? Why was Riddick giving advice? Danny shook his head to focus on his newest plan. "You playing nice so you can get in my ass?" He snarled. Arms of steel snatched from his seat, closing around him until he couldn't breathe. He felt the unmistakable bulge of Riddick's hardened member under his ass. He had never even heard the other man move.

"I. Don't. Play. Nice."

Riddick's breath on his ear was making Danny's skin crawl. After an eternity, Riddick let him go, moving away even as Danny fell to the floor. Danny stayed on the floor until his limbs were stable enough to hold his weight. When he got up, it was away from Riddick, or where he thought Riddick had moved to. Danny didn't say another word. He was too busy thinking. He would lay low and pay attention to the other inmates. It really didn't sound like such a bad idea...

Riddick ignored his cellmate. The kid had hair and eyes almost the same color of Johns'. It was hard to look at the twit without thinking about Johns. He had been thinking about Johns when he had told the kid to listen and learn. He had been thinking about Johns when that idiot had tried to provoke him. He had been thinking about Johns when he had snatched the kid up from the bench. Fact was, he was still thinking about Johns. He was getting painfully hard. Time to think about something else...

In two days, a prison transport would arrive, providing him with the long awaited escape from this hell hole. Three years had passed since he had last laid eyes on the trash talking, ass-kicking merc. Three long years...

It had only been an accident of fate that Riddick had ended up in SLAM. Johns had been shot, and while dragging the merc to safety, Riddick had inadvertently backed straight into a police ambush. Between the night sky and rain falling hard enough to bounce, it had been easy to prop Johns on the brick wall and move away. Riddick had thrown himself to the ground as bullets whizzed over him.

Outnumbered and outgunned, there was nothing either Johns or Riddick could have done. Johns needed immediate medical attention, and without some kind of help, he never would have reached it in time. Blue eyes, wide with shock and the pain of being unable to help had haunted Riddick these past three years. Those blue eyes had watched in anguish as he had been shot at, beaten and dragged away. Riddick had watched the officers desperately manhandle Johns into a cruiser that tore off into the night, headed for the nearest hospital.

Riddick couldn't help but snicker at what the inmates had discussed earlier. Johns couldn't lie still if you tied him down, he didn't like bending over so much as lying down or standing up, and as for his throat...Riddick cut the thought short before he lost control and did something stupid like jack off in front of his not-so-stupid cellmate. Despite his discomfort, he managed to smile to himself:

Two days. He could hardly wait. Even better: Johns would freak when he found out he was every man's dream.


End file.
